


Summer's Rain

by TheWalrusAndTheCarpenter



Series: Lavellan & Pavus [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Death of Clan Lavellan, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, that damned war table operation didn't go well for me okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 09:39:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4386887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWalrusAndTheCarpenter/pseuds/TheWalrusAndTheCarpenter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'I regret that my help for your Dalish allies came too late to be of use. By the time my forces arrived in the area, the Dalish had been scattered or killed, and there seems little left of their clan.' || Mahanon Lavellan learns about the death of his clan and struggles to cope with the reality of it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer's Rain

**Author's Note:**

> AU where clan Lavellan didn't survive.

Mahanon Lavellan stared at the letter in his hands as he lay on his oversize bed. All of the words began morphing into one another as more tears filled his green eyes. He had probably read over the page a hundred times since Josephine had handed it to him that morning, but he still refused for it to be true. His eyes were blood red and sore from crying, but he still insisted on trying to formulate a way for the content to be false. Once again, he began to read.

_I regret that my help for your Dalish allies came too late to be of use. By the time my forces arrived in the area, the Dalish had been scattered or killed, and there seems little left of their clan._

His heart stopped in his chest, just as it had done the first time he had read those words earlier in the war room.

 _Killed_ , he read again.

A morbid laugh bubbled in his throat; he always knew that their weapons were no match for those the Shem had. He had mentioned to the Keeper a few times in the past that it may be worth doing more weapons trading with nearby villages, but the response was always the same. _The humans have their traditions as do we. We must stick to them Da’len_. Keeper Deshanna strived to keep their Dalish ways the same, and that meant continuing to make their weapons the way they always had. Ironbark may be strong, but there are plenty of materials that are stronger. Mahanon had to admit though, that their weapons and crafts would always be far more beautiful than anything he had seen humans create.

All he wanted was to go back home to his clan, but he couldn’t do that now. He had never wanted to spy at the conclave; it had taken the Keeper a lot of convincing before Mahanon had agreed to leave the confines of the aravels. 

He wished that he could once again be back in the camp, sitting around the fire listening to one of Adanna’s wild hunting stories. They would listen for hours while the wind brought over the smell of the forest and the halla, comforting everyone. The tales would continue late into the night, the sound of laughter filling the cool air until finally they all fell asleep wrapped in thick fur blankets. Summer nights with his clan - his family - was always something he looked forward to. But now… now he won’t be able to experience it again.

Allowing the letter to drop from his hand and onto the floor, he let the tears that were welling up in his eyes to finally fall. He had been crying, shut up in his room, for most of the day. There were a few knocks on the door in the morning from his advisors who were checking up on him, but he had quickly waved them off. He just wanted to be alone.

-

A light tap on his quarter’s door woke him up; he must have passed out shortly after his tears stopped. The elf made little effort to move from his current position, curled on top of the light bedding.

 _Who even is that_ , Mahanon thought sleepily, _I asked Josephine to keep everyone away today._

The last thing he needed was for people to see him in such a pitiful state. Being the inquisitor, the ‘Herald of Andraste’, he had a reputation to keep up. He could barely string a sentence together without crying and that wasn’t something people needed to see. But whoever was at the door had very little patience as they just continue to knock on the heavy door.

“Please,” Mahanon pleaded weakly “I don’t want to see anyone right no-”

“Mahanon?”

“I haven’t seen you all day and no one will tell me what’s going on,” he said, his concern was obvious in his voice. “Can I come in? Actually, no. I’m not going to leave until you let me in.”

A quiet chuckle escaped Mahanon’s lips although there was little happiness behind it. Dorian was a very stubborn man and he probably _would_ sit outside the door and read until he was let in. It was a comforting thought though, that Dorian cared that much.

“Yes...” He managed to reply with. It was barely audible and his voice wavered a bit, but it was a reply at least.

The mage walked up the stairs from the door, mumbling something about how horrid the curtains in Skyhold were. There was always something in Skyhold that wasn’t up to Dorian’s standards, and he enjoyed complaining about it. His mutterings ceased when his eyes fell on his boyfriend’s tear stained face.

“Amatus, I’m not going to ask if something is wrong because it’s very clear that there is.” Dorian’s voice was soothing, Mahanon noticed, it was like honey yet not as sickly sweet. “I won’t force you to talk about it if that’s not what you wish-”

Dorian’s words began to trail off as Mahanon pointed to the letter on the floor, giving him permission to read it. The letter was quickly lifted from the dusty floor, and Dorian’s eyes started skimming over the words. The room was silent as Mahanon watched Dorian’s face start to fall.

“Oh..” Was all he said one he had finished reading. The sound was completely devoid of emotion and Mahanon struggled to tell what he was thinking.

Dorian went to sit next to his lover on the bed; however he stopped when he saw the elf automatically tense. Mahanon didn’t mean to be on edge, he knew Dorian was never going to do anything to hurt him, he loved him. But with everything that had happened and him being the only Dalish Elf in the Inquisition, he couldn’t help but to feel uneasy and lonely.

“May I sit down?” Dorian asked calmly, the last thing he wanted was to accidentally do something to upset Mahanon further.

Taking a breath, the elf forced himself to relax and gave a small nod.

“Ir abelas…” he started softly as the bed dipped with the added weight of his human companion.

“Don’t be sorry Amatus, this isn’t your fault. If anything I should be sorry for not coming to check on you earlier.”

 _But it is my fault!_ Mahanon wanted to scream. _It’s all because of me. I should have sent help quicker!_  

The elf knew he should have kept in contact with his clan better, had he have done that then maybe he would have been able to know what was going on in advance. If he had just accepted Cullen’s help in the first place and sent his soldiers in instead then maybe more could have been done.

“I should- I should have listened to Cullen! Then maybe… _maybe_ they would be alive.” Mahanon cried out, wrapping his skinny arms around himself.

He could feel Dorian’s silent gaze on him and it just made him feel like even more of a failure.

“You did all you could,” Dorian tried to comfort him by placing a warm hand on Mahanon’s shoulder “You can’t protect everyone as hard as you may try to.”

As soon as the words left the Tevinter’s lips, he regretted them. _Maker_ , he thought, _that wasn’t what I meant to say at all_. Dorian never was particularly great at comforting people, even more so when it came to those he cared for.

“I was the _First_!” Mahanon nearly yelled, blinded with anger and grief, “I’m supposed to be their next Keeper! I’m supposed to protect them!”

Tears rolled down his tanned cheeks, cutting effortlessly across the lines of his vallaslin. The markings were once something he was proud of, and now they would be a reminder of his failure for years to come.

He breathed in raggedly “Creators, I can’t even do that right.”

Mahanon’s shoulders shook as he sobbed. The entire scene broke Dorian’s heart and it hurt even more when he realised that he didn’t know how to even begin to properly help the man he loved. The only time he had lost someone close was when Felix passed, but even then that was just one man, Mahanon had lost his entire family and all of his friends. Dorian couldn’t even begin to comprehend the hurt he was feeling.

“Would you be okay if I hugged you?” Dorian asked carefully.

Mahanon looked up, his eyes bleary, and nodded. He needed some kind of touch, some kind of contact, to wake him from this nightmare. When Dorian hugged him Mahanon would wake up and everything would go back to how it was before.

But he didn’t wake up.

Dorian’s strong arms pulled him close and the elf tried to get his breathing back to normal. It was comforting, Dorian smelt so warm and nice and Mahanon couldn’t stop himself from pushing his face into the soft crook of his neck.

“They were my family,” He explained, his voice muffled against Dorian’s skin. He had run out of tears to shed long ago, but the numbness caused by his losses was still there. “I’m all alone now, they’re all gone.”

Dorian placed a light kiss on Mahanon’s head, a small gesture that the elf did appreciate even if he couldn’t show his gratitude at the time. “You still have me Amatus, I’m not going anywhere.”

Mahanon allowed a sad, sleepy smile to grace his lips. _Thank you_ , he thought as he pressed himself more against his partner’s shoulder.

Running his fingers through the elf’s soft hair, Dorian spoke up again, “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

Dorian knew that sleeping wouldn’t magically make everything okay, but sometimes it helped to escape reality for a bit.

The elf pulled away from Dorian’s shoulder stood up to undress out of his hot clothes. After struggling with his shirt, he finally managed to take it off with a bit of Dorian’s help. He then climbed under the covers, wrapping himself in the fabrics. The sheets were much nicer than the bedding he grew up with, but even so he missed their scratchy feel and grassy scent. Without needing to be asked, Dorian removed his own clothes and climbed into the bed too. He wasn’t going to leave Mahanon, being alone right then wouldn’t help anything.

“Dorian?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think Mother Giselle will let me plant a tree in the gardens?”

An explanation wasn’t required for Dorian to understand what he meant. Contrary to popular belief, Dorian did, in fact, listen to Mahanon’s late night talks and random facts on Dalish culture and tradition.

“I’m certain that she will.” Dorian replied, once again pulling Mahanon close “I’ll come with you and ask her in the morning.”

Stifling a yawn, Mahanon shifted to get comfortable in the large bed.

“Ma serannas, ma vhenan…”

It wasn’t uncommon for Mahanon to return to his first language when he was tired and his mind wandered, Dorian often did the same when he got drunk. 

As the elf felt himself begin to drift off, he nuzzled into Dorian’s chest. The loss of his clan hurt a lot, and he knew that it probably always would be a hard thing to accept. He wasn’t expecting Dorian to just take all of his pain away, because he knew that that just wasn’t possible. However, Dorian did help him to feel a bit better.

It was nice to know that he hadn’t lost everyone he cared for, that Dorian would always be there. 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this idea was floating around my head for a bit ever since I did that war table operation, but I've only just got down to writing it. My first attempt at Pavellan so please be kind. Also, this is unbeta'd - I have checked multiple times for any errors but I'm still learning so if you spot anything, please point it out so I can improve! 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
